Comments | winchester_lost: Why Hello Pretty Lady

winchester_lost

Why Hello Pretty Lady

May 12, 2012 00:58

It was another shitty bar, in another shitty town. They were hunting down a particularly nasty Japanese spirit, of all fucking things, and after seeing a string of corpses that had been asphyxiated or with slit throats, and peeled skin, Dean thought he'd earned his intoxication and whatever pretty woman he happened to stumble home with. ( Read more... )

crowley/dean, au, crowley, smut, crossroadskink, s5, rp, cr

Comments 56

crossroadskink May 13 2012, 06:00:04 UTC

A smile, then, pleased with himself and interested, so interested in seeing what Dean was willing to do in the name of a pretty skirt. Of course he wasn't against trying something new, because this new thing was something that had been on Dean's mind, had been gnawing at him for years, always ignored, never pursued. Crowley would have bet a great deal on that, and now... now he was going to prove it ( ... )

winchester_lost May 13 2012, 06:19:47 UTC

His eyes went wide as she mentioned seeing him in her panties. It wasn't out of surprise or uncertainty or too kinky for me. No, it was a look of a kink he hadn't expected to find mentioned, something he liked, liked a lot, and Dean nodded almost mutely in agreement as he waited for her to continue. And then she was talking about what his ass was good for, her voice low, incongruent with the act, but Dean was too sold on it to notice. He wanted it too much to notice.

The fact that she wanted to watch him get fucked should have been a deal-breaker, it should have earned her a quizzical eyebrow and a comment about how if it was happening, he was topping. Instead, it left him flushed and breathless, his lips slightly parted in that way that accented how full and pink and pretty his mouth was. He shivered visibly at the way that she said I'll bet you're a loud one, aren't you. He was. There was that subtle way he tilted a little closer, tilted his head just so at the mention of bondage and spankings and fingers at his throat ( ... )

crossroadskink May 13 2012, 06:40:27 UTC

Well, look at that. How fucking spot on had he ended up being. The rough stuff had been a guess, a shot in the dark, but knowing the time Dean had spent in hell, the kind of things that happen when everything is lost, he'd figured it was worth it to see his reaction. And Dean had hung on every word, absolutely drawn in. There wasn't anything he'd said that Dean had flinched over, made a face at, made any indication that it was too far, too weird for him to try. Crowley had seen that look before, the look that people get when you recite to them the very things they scarcely dare to consciously want ( ... )

winchester_lost May 13 2012, 06:57:30 UTC

Dean was flushed when he tumbled into Crowley's hotel room, furious and confused and embarassed. Because it had clicked as he'd pulled away from the near-rioting crowd hungry for his blood that it had been Crowley asking those questions, Crowley that he'd agreed to being willing to get fucked for. And fuck, but he hardly knew how to deal with that. Denial seemed like a good first step, and they were off those pretty lips almost as soon as Dean slammed the door shut.

"I didn't mean- I wouldn't- Just cause I'd do something to get laid doesn't mean I'm like that. They wanted to kill me thanks to you."

He was scowling and furious, anger hot in his voice, but also that flutter of easy lies, that whisper of lingering interest as he stormed over to the demon. He had his gun in his pocket and there was a part of him that thought that Crowley deserved an iron bullet or three. But, this was a classier sort of hotel; he figured they'd probably notice gunshots.

crossroadskink May 13 2012, 07:11:03 UTC

Crowley was lounging back against all of the pillows nursing a scotch when Dean came rushing into the room. The bottle was on the bed side table, and it was one of those aged expensive affairs that Crowley favored so much. He was taking his time and savoring this one, because the last glass had been knocked back. He had to catch up with himself, after all, because he'd lost the buzz when he'd ditched the girl. She was easier to get drunk, but then this body had plenty of sizable assets to compensate for that ( ... )

winchester_lost May 13 2012, 07:27:16 UTC

Dean pulls back a step as Crowley pushes into his space, before he can think better of it, before he can think about how the demon will read it when there's no denial on his mouth. Because Crowley is right, of course, and there's briefly that desire of being caught red-handed that maybe if he just admits it things won't turn out so bad. But he's already admitted to too much, and so he squares his shoulders, thins his lips, narrows his eyes- reflexive way he tries to seem harder.

"That's not- It's not like that."

It's the best he can manage, and the timber of his voice has already shifted from anger to interest. There's a warmth to the words, more reminiscent of back at the bar, rather than when he first stumbled into Crowley's hotel room. His green eyes wide as they briefly meet the demon's gaze, as if hoping that can somehow back up what Dean says and that Crowley might miss just how undone by all of this Dean really is.

crossroadskink May 13 2012, 08:13:30 UTC

Crowley shifts to the side and sets his glass down on a low table near the door and keeps moving into Dean's space, forcing him back, walking him towards the door he just came through ( ... )

winchester_lost May 13 2012, 08:30:27 UTC

Dean falls back from the ominous way the demon presses closer until there's nowhere else to go, until his back hits the door he'd walked through, and there's nowhere else for him to go. There's a sharp catch of his breath at that realization, when he tries to step away and his back hits the door. And Crowley's looking at him like he wants to fuck him, like every conspiratorial word in the bar was some shady piece of foreplay he'd been unaware he'd been playing into ( ... )

crossroadskink May 13 2012, 23:35:01 UTC

"Everything is real," is all Crowley says, his voice low as if this is secret knowledge he's giving Dean.

He's not stopping to ask if Dean wants this because he knows he does. He saw as much in the bar, saw the way arousal dilated his eyes only after the pretty girl suggested Dean get fucked. Sure, he found her attractive. He'd have taken her to bed, but the idea of being fucked, being used had turned him on more than any set of DD's could hope to.

Crowley looks down Dean's body. There's not much space between them, they're practically touching. He's sizing him up. He's appraising him.

He could get there fast. Make his clothes simply vanish, leave him nude against the door, get right to the touching. But half the fun of having a body, of having sex in a body, was in the getting there. He wasn't going to take it slow by any means. No, he still wanted to get him naked fast, now, but he loved this part. Clothes pulled off, the frenzy, the way need can be communicated in something like the way a shirt is grabbed or hasty impatience ( ... )

winchester_lost May 14 2012, 01:04:24 UTC

Dean doesn't want that to be true. Doesn't want to have to face the sick reality of the things he did, things he enjoyed in Hell. He doesn't want to think about Alastair- not clothed in some orthodontist but the way he was in Hell- dark and strong and sleek with the power of ages, pushing him down, bending him, using him, humiliating him, and Dean wanting every breath of it. He wants to pretend that his denials meant anything, that Alastair wouldn't have done worse than kill him if Sam and Castiel hadn't been there to save him ( ... )